


Ephemeral

by girlgoneblack



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fanart, Guilt, Long Hair, M/M, Minor Violence, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-sided feelings, Pre-Canon, Pre-Thor (2011), new feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:04:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlgoneblack/pseuds/girlgoneblack
Summary: After seeing Fandral's drawing of Loki, Thor starts to be bothered by his brother's long, black hair.





	Ephemeral

**Author's Note:**

> So I always thought that it was kind of weird that Thor and Loki had short hair in the first _Thor_ movie, and then suddenly decided to grow them on a whim. This fic is my take on why they both had such short hair in the first movie.
> 
> Contains a small sketch I made for fun that kind of inspired this work.
> 
> This work is not beta-ed and I didn't re-read it; also, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any potential mistake.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> Edit (13/11/2018): I managed to add the image to the fic! It's not linked anymore, but a part of the fic, now.

   “Fandral, where have you been?” Thor’s voice bellowed, bouncing off the walls of the training arena. “We’ve fought at least ten rounds while waiting for you” he added, gesturing his hand at Sif, Volstagg and Hogun.

   Fandral approached them with a light, playful step, his hair shining copper, a little smile ghosting over his lips. Thor grinned at him in return.

   “Were you afraid that Sif was going to beat you again?” he teased his friend, and Sif chuckled softly next to him. “Is that why you skipped our weekly training?”

   “Thor, you know well that I’ve accepted the fact that Sif is better than any of us a long time ago” replied Fandral.

   Thor laughed heartily at that.

   “Well, better than you three, at least.”

   Sif was opening her lips to retort something, but Fandral beat her to it:

   “Yes, you bested her once, Thor. She was blindfolded and fought you barehanded.”

   Volstagg and Hogun roared at that, almost falling to the ground because of how much they were laughing. Sif only allowed herself a small, self-satisfied smirk. Thor frowned at that. He enjoyed laughing with his friends but he still had his pride, and he allowed himself to be bothered by that truth, deep down.

   “Where were you, then, if not running away from Sif?” he asked Fandral, trying to change the subject.

   “Oh!” said his friend, as if only remembering now. “I was just in the gardens. I was walking there this morning, and I stumbled across your brother, Thor.”

   “Loki?” Thor’s voice went awkwardly high. He always got an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Fandral and Loki spending time alone, just the two of them, without him.

   “Yes, as I recall, you only have one brother, Thor” chuckled Fandral.

   “It’s rare to see him leave the library” commented Volstagg, and Thor ignored his slightly biting tone. He knew that the Warriors Three and Loki weren’t exactly on the best of terms.

   “Indeed” agreed Fandral. “I hadn’t seen him in quite some time, truth be told. He was sitting there, reading a book under the shadow of a tree. I started drawing him and I just didn’t see the time pass.”

   Thor’s eyebrows shot up.

   “You chose my brother as a model for your little experimental drawings?”

   “They’re not so experimental anymore!” replied Fandral, sounding offended. “I’ve improved quite a bit, thank you. And yes, the shades of the tree on his face were so perfect that I just had to draw him.”

   He then took out a folded piece of fine paper from his pocket and spread it in front of them. It showed a drawing of the younger prince staring absent-mindedly away, deep shadows lining his lithe face, his long, wavy hair spilling on his shoulders.

   Thor stared at the sketch as if he was seeing his brother for the first time in his life – although he had seen him the day before for dinner, just like every day since the day he was born. The drawing was very well done – he had to give _that_ to Fandral. But most importantly, it showed Loki in a way that Thor had never seen – at least, not since they were small children playing in vast, green fields. His brother looked happy, at ease and at peace, relaxed.

   He looked _beautiful_.

   When had his hair gotten so long?

   It made Thor want to run his hand in it – because he remembered how _soft_ it was when they were children, when he used to pat his brother on the head – and thread his fingers in his brother’s long, raven locks, and _pull_ so that…

   He blinked, putting an abrupt stop to his train of thoughts.

   “I’ll take this” he said, practically tearing the piece of paper in half when snatching it from Fandral’s hand.

   “Oh, well, if you want it” shrugged Fandral. “But I was rather proud of it.”

   Thor stormed away, leaving his confused friends behind, and didn’t leave his chambers for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

   A soft knock on the doors to his chambers that evening tore him away from his brooding.

   “Enter” he called out after a few seconds.

   The heavy, oaken door wing opened with a soft creak and his brother appeared in the entrance. He was wearing his light, casual, green tunic, and his hair was let go, floating behind him like a black wing.

   “Do you have any business with me?” asked Thor before he could bite his tongue. He winced at how sharp it came out.

   Loki’s dark eyebrows shot up, green eyes flickering with disbelief.

   “Am I not allowed to see my own brother outside of meals and feasts anymore?”

   Thor sighed heavily.

   “Forgive me, brother. I didn’t mean it like that.”

   Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a quiet click, plunging the room in the quiet dusk Thor had been sitting in.

   “No, clearly, you did not” answered Loki, his voice a bit husky and low.

   Thor shuddered a bit – he wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was the slight chill of the night; or maybe the way the candle lights played on his brother’s body as he approached Thor, seated at the foot of his bed.

   “Is something troubling you?” asked Loki. “You seemed quite off at dinner tonight. Usually you won’t shut your mouth, even when you’re chewing” he then added, grimacing a bit in disgust.

   Thor chuckled, glancing at Loki. His brother was perceptive as ever – and yet, always unreadable, expression forever schooled into perfect neutrality. Even now, in the soft lights cast by the flames of the candles that played along his face.

   Thor wasn’t about to tell Loki what was troubling him. He wasn’t about to share with him the thoughts that had been haunting him since he saw Fandral’s drawing (which was now safely tucked away in a locked drawer in his wardrobe) – and it had only been a few hours, and still, it was unbearable and torturous. Those thoughts started from Loki’s long, luxurious hair and ended in places even darker than his brother’s raven locks.

   Maybe Thor indeed wasn’t as clever as Loki, but he was smart enough to know of the things that were _so_ wrong and forbidden that they were not even mentioned aloud in Asgard.

   Thor brought his hand up, a bit in the spur of the moment, tangling his fingers around a lock of black hair.

   He heard Loki’s sharp intake of breath.

   “I hate your hair.”

   Loki looked at him for a few seconds, as if he was piecing together the words he had just heard.

   “What? Why?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.

   Thor pressed his lips together.

   “It’s unruly. It’s way too long. It looks like the hair of a maiden.”

   Loki looked at him with raised eyebrows.

   “Well, if it was hatred for my hair that kept you in this foul mood all evening, _Thor_ , it would have sufficed to just say it right away; I would have cut it” he said, each word sounding like a bite. “I was growing it for your coronation, for next year. I thought it would please you” he added, more softly than Thor has ever heard Loki speak.

   Those words stirred something even deeper inside of Thor. He felt as if his whole body was devoured by flames. His fingertips tingled, his eyes prickled, his throat closed up and he found it difficult to breathe.

   He abruptly stood up, yanking his brother by the hair with the hand that was still tangled in it. Loki cried in pain and surprise, jumping to his feet as quickly as possible to lessen the pain.

   “ _Thor_ , what in the…”

   But he never got to finish his sentenced. Thor took a fist of his hair and pulled him towards the bathroom, Loki yelping behind him.

   “Brother, unhand me _this instant_ , or I swear you’ll regret it!” seethed Loki through gritted teeth, trying to keep up with his pace as to relieve some of the ache.

   Thor arrived in front of his mirror, dragging Loki behind him, and immediately grabbed his razor blade from the marble counter. He caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror – his hair disheveled, his eyes wide and mad and glinting.

   He looked away.

   He turned to his brother, whose eyes widened at the sight of the sharp object in Thor’s hand.

   “ _Brother_! Brother, have you gone completely _mad_?” cried Loki, nearly hysterical.

   Thor raised his hand.

   Loki began to trash in his grip, trying to escape, but Thor kicked him on the shin and his brother fell to his knees in front of him.

   _Snap._

   A first fistful of gorgeous, silky, raven locks fell to the ground.

   Loki froze still.

   He didn’t move while Thor cut his hair short, to neck’s length. He didn’t even wince, even if Thor himself was aware of how rough he was being.

   When Thor was finished, he took in the sight of his brother scrunched on the floor, surrounded by long locks of his hair. He dropped to his knees in front of Loki, the blade clinking somewhere besides him, a slow feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t dare look at his brother, and focused his gaze on his knees instead.

   “Loki, I…” he choked out, not really knowing what to say.

   They stayed like that for a while, neither one of them moving a muscle.

   “Me neither” said Loki after what seemed like hours.

   “What?” rasped Thor, his voice barely audible.

   “I don’t like your long hair either.”

   He then stood up and walked away, leaving Thor behind.

 

* * *

 

   That night, Thor cut his hair, leaving it shoulder length, the blond locks falling on the raven ones his brother had left. He cried too, for the first time in many years.

   And he fell asleep, tears drying around his eyes, with the desperate and angry thought that, even after cutting Loki’s beautiful, jet black hair, he still wanted his brother in the most sinful of ways.

**Author's Note:**

> I always wanted to see a young Loki with long, flowing hair. I should totally make a more "serious" drawing of that. If I'm not too lazy...


End file.
